Finding Affections
by Malcontent Ash
Summary: Prussia visits Canada in hopes of getting some things off his chest, but the late night talk soon develops into something more.
1. Chapter 1

_This is insane. _

_ *Knock knock*_

_ Why the fuck did I do that? Run you moron! _…but his feet wouldn't move. He heard muffled steps inside the door and a whispered swear. _He hasn't seen you yet, just go!_

His thoughts were interrupted by a hockey stick flying at break-neck speeds toward his face. With a surprisingly feminine strangled scream, the attack stopped.

"Prussia? What are you doing here? I could have sworn it was a criminal, or France, or America trying to invade me again…" His voice started near a whisper and fell into near silent mumbles from there.

Rubbing his head awkwardly, Prussia faced the Canadian. "Well, you see, I was… in the neighborhood and…" _Fuck. …in the Canadian neighborhood? You moron! He's totally not buying it. You should've run! Running now would probably be easier to explain than being "in the neighborhood" all the way in Canada…_

_ "_America lives down the street and to the left. The house number is 285, thanks for stopping by," the Canadian stated in a practiced monotone dialogue, closing the door quickly with his final word.

"What? Wait! Canada?"

The albino man had to take a hurried step backward to avoid the door which was flying quickly back toward him. Canada stepped out, blushing furiously with his violet eyes sparkling and a hockey stick still in hand.

"You remembered?"

"Remembered what?"

"That I'm Canada!"

"…and I'm Prussia, what's your point?"

"Well, everyone always gets confused with… oh, never mind."

"America? People mistake you for America? Seriously?" At that, Canada's cheeks flushed a deep red and tears formed in the creases of his closed eyes. He stared at the cement foundation of his porch as both shuffled their feet awkwardly. _Ahem. _

"Ah! Yes, sorry. Come on inside, I'll make some coffee."

Prussia followed Canada into his house and shut the door quietly behind him. The house was simple, rugged, and well decorated with warm, natural materials. The floor was made of a deep, rich wood which was accented nicely by cream walls. The place was comfortable, if simple, much like a cabin.

Canada bustled back and forth in his kitchen making coffee. With every shuffled step, the stray hair on his head bounced slightly, causing Prussia's lips to turn upward at the corners. Canada was wearing red flannel pajamas and simple blue slippers which softened his steps. He smiled apologetically and motioned toward the large old table in his kitchen for Prussia to sit. He gladly took a chair, slumping down into it like he would at his brother's house and then feeling self-conscious and straightening again. He twiddled his thumbs and fidgeted his knees rapidly, feeling thoroughly un-awesome.

"So you were in the neighborhood?" The Canadian asked incredulously, standing by the coffeemaker as it dripped hot water loudly. The Prussian chuckled awkwardly.

"Well, yeah… you know how it is."

"How what is?" The Prussian's face colored a shade of pink which softened the blood red of his eyes. White eyelashes fluttered down as he muttered into the table.

"Nothing…" Awkward silence prevailed, frustrating the Prussian to no end and thoroughly confusing the Canadian. _Is he drunk?_

_Mein Gott! You came all the way out here without an excuse! Are you drunk?_

Luckily for both parties, the coffee maker beeped to voice its completion, startling both, but thankfully ending the awkwardness for a moment. Canada poured the steaming black liquid into two brightly colored, but well-aged and mismatched mugs. He placed one in front of the Prussian who grabbed it appreciatively and placed one on the table, sliding out a chair and sitting delicately. With two scoots forward he was seated comfortably at the table with his guest and warm porcelain wrapped up in his long, pale fingers.

"So," the blonde started, glancing off to the side and then quickly meeting the ruby orbs. "What brings you out here, eh?" Prussia's white hair fell down over his eyes as he stared intently into the mug. Canada's head tilted gently to the side as he waited silently for a response. The Prussian started softly.

"Things-T-Things have been hard, y'know?" Canada hummed in response.

"It's like I'm not a person any more –now that I'm not a nation. It gets so…"

"Lonely?" the Canadian offered.

"No! I'm far too awesome to be… Well, I… yeah," he coughed uncomfortably, "lonely." He spat the word with bitter loathing.

Canada stared at him for a moment before he replied, "But everyone knows who you are… How could you be lonely?"

"Sure, they know who I am. How could anyone not know of the great Prussia!" he shouted, shaking a tightly clenched fist. His fingers relaxed and wrapped back around the mug. "It's like I'm a novelty to them. How can I still be alive when I no longer exist as a nation?" The weight of the question hung heavy in the room with its implications. Nations had different theories as to why this might be, but none of them could be shared in polite conversation, and none of them changed the Prussian's situation. "Why am I even here? Not here, as in your house, but alive? I placed Ludwig in charge of Germany when the wall fell, and when the Soviet Union fell apart, where did that leave me? Ludwig's got everything covered and I just get in his way when I try to do anything. Fuck…" He buried his face in his hands leaving the mug forgotten beside him to cool. "Fuck," He choked, "I sound so un-awesome."

Canada felt his heart swell and twist uncomfortably and he thought of his brother. He definitely knew what it was like to be overshadowed by and older brother and what it was like to feel forgotten and insignificant. He saw a lot of his own suffering in the man across his kitchen table and did his best to comfort. "Well, people can see you, right? That's got to be pretty great. And it's great that you can be so close with your brother," he chuckled and then sighed, thinking of his own brother and neighbor.

"I don't just want people to see me; I want them to notice me! I used to be the spotlight of the world! Now what am I, Canada? I'm a relic of forgotten times. I suffered under Russia for years, and for what? Now I'm alive, sure. But at what cost? Does it even matter at this point?" Mattie stood suddenly, sending his chair clattering loudly on the floor.

"Of course it does, you hoser!" His cheeks flushed slightly, alternating between a bright pink and sickly purple. "I-I-I just… I m-mean…" He mumbled frantically. Prussia's eyes were glued to the panicked mess of a man. Canada was almost in tears when Prussia finally blinked once slowly, and then twice more as a slow smile grew cat-like on his face.

"Ohhh?" He stood with the mischievous smile plastered on his face and one white eyebrow raised teasingly. "And why's that?" He asked, stepping toward the cowering man while feeling much more awesome than he had. Canada peeked up into his eyes and saw a predatory glint.

"N-N-No reason. It's just that life is precious and important and stuff and ohmygodpleasebackup." The Canadian whimpered in a wavering tone as the Prussian stepped around the table and stood close enough that his breath could be felt on Canada's cheeks. The Prussian placed only one hand on the blonde's strong slender frame before he was hurried so quickly toward the door that he was nearly pushed face-first into it.

"N-Nice seeing you, G-Glad I could help bye!" Pink lips whispered through the door as it slammed behind the albino. Prussia blinked slowly, processing what had just happened and then stepped off the porch with a whistle and a merry hop.

_That could have definitely gone worse…_


	2. Chapter 2

After slamming the door, Canada turned away from it and stood, staring at his walls in shock. His heart was beating a million miles an hour and his blood pounded angrily in his ears.

_Was he just… Did he just… FLIRT? Dear lord! I know he has a bad reputation of being a pervert, especially with guys, but I can't believe he would show any interest in me. I must have been imagining it! I mean, I kicked him out and everything, but ohgod, what if he wasn't and I just kicked him out when he needed emotional support? Then I'd be a total douche!_

Canada's thoughts rushed painfully around in his head as he slumped back down at his place at the kitchen table. His hand wrapped around the handle of his mug, but he sat quietly, thinking up a storm, absolutely, and utterly shell-shocked.

The next morning, Canada's alarm shouts him unwillingly awake. With a disgruntled groan and a roll, he feels around for the button to shut his alarm up. Once, it is finally silent, he tries opening his eyes and sighs at the result. His eyes are tired and dry from the night without sleep. He must have checked the clock every hour, swearing that he'd get some sleep before work, but every time he tried to sleep, his efforts were denied by a whirlwind of thoughts about the evening before. With an extended yawn, and a pause to rub the sand out of his eyes, he stands.

Canada stretched and toed his slippers on to his feet before shuffling over to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel from the old, white cabinet by his shower and after carefully arranging it on the hanger, he turned the water on. The water in Canada's house takes quite a while to warm as his pipes are old and his land is ridiculously cold. He waits for the weary water heater in his basement to warm the water to an acceptable temperature and steps in. Warm, almost hot water rushes over his face as he turns it up toward the showerhead, letting the water run down his face and across his chest. His blonde hair quickly darkens with moisture and clings to the back of his head. He runs his fingers through it and then reaches for his bottle of specially formulated color-enhancing maple scented shampoo, courtesy of Francis. The man may be his father and an effeminate pervert, but he had fine taste. The puddle shined like liquid gold in his hand and he rubbed it in to his hair with a smile. He pondered France as he did so, but his thoughts were soon torn away by one of France's friends -a certain German friend who seemed to be making questionable approaches on the Canadian the night before.

It wasn't that the well-built blonde was a virgin. No, Canada's sick papa had long since taken care of that, and when they were younger, poor Alfred was so pent up from Arthur's prudish rules that he stole more than a couple kisses. He really enjoyed the time that he spent with the sexually damaged American, but he could never imagine being in a relationship with him. The only time he could be dominant in their relationship was during sex, but he always had to coax the younger along after the first advance. Alfred would be painfully horny and desire the Canadian, but after a tackle and a kiss, he would become a shy, stuttering mess of embarrassment and arousal. Somehow, the Canadian who had been trained by the nation of love himself, couldn't imagine being satisfied with that sort of sex life, not to mention Alfred's hero complex. Yes, he loved his brother, but Alfred just wasn't mature enough to love him back like he wanted to be loved. He loved Francis as well, but he had to admit to himself that the man was a coward and a pervert, and having sex with him felt a little bit wrong in a lot of ways.

No, Canada was not a virgin, and was certainly not new to love, but somehow Prussia's advances caught him completely off-guard. Canada had known Prussia for a very long time, but not on a personal basis. He frequently heard of his escapades with France and the trouble he got into, but he hadn't spoken much with him since he was a child and Canada forced the Prussian to babysit as France tried to get with "un petit fleur." The evening had been awkward for both of them and Prussia had spent it drinking a long series of beers. When the Frenchman finally returned home reeking of wine and covered in bruises, the German staggered out as quickly as he could. No, he definitely didn't expect advances from Prussia. _He must have been drunk. Forget about it. _Canada wet his face again in the water before turning it off and reaching for the fluffy well-loved towel. Canada promised himself again to forget about the entire ordeal and to act naturally the next time he saw Prussia as he dressed. He slid his jacked on to his shoulders with a slight nod of confirmation for the plan and set out for another day at the grind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quick Note:**

**Sorry it took me so long to write this chapter. For whatever reason, it really fought me. I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out and I'll probably start working on the next tonight.  
**

Canada stepped carefully into the meeting room, dodging and ducking around people to avoid being pummeled by the nations who couldn't see him. Unfortunately for him, his brother could see him quite well. America jumped into the crowd, picking his brother up and causing a major fuss.

"Are you fucking blind? Can't you see him, you assholes?" He growled, motioning to the man in his arms. Most of the nations in attendance looked at him as though he was as batshit insane as England. England's fingers quickly found their way to the bridge of his nose, and he muttered to himself about the American being unable to see fairies, but able to see things that didn't even exist. France smiled pervertedly at the American, signaling for him to 'go for it' and gyrating his hips lewdly. Canada's face burned red and tears of frustration and embarrassment rolled down his face. Prussia watched the scene nonchalantly with his head rested in his hand as he sat in the back. Prussia was no longer permitted to sit with the other nations during meetings because he caused endless distractions and was no longer an actual nation. He studied the two carefully, paying careful attention to Canada's face.

"Alfred, please! They're staring…" Canada whispered, feeling small under the weight of the groups judgments. Alfred walked over to the Canadian's seat and put him down with a huff. Canada pulls up his chair and sits down, placing his head on the table and covering it with his arms. After the initial discomfort and subsequent whispers and stares directed at the Nothern brothers, the meeting passed without any major issues. Italy caused his usual fusses, the nations bickered, and America laughed loudly over it all. Canada sighed and looked around the room, only to meet a pair of red eyes. He stared for a moment and glanced away as social rules dictate, checking again a couple seconds later to see if the Prussian was still staring at him. He was. Canada's head spun back toward his desk and he swore to look at only it for the rest of the meeting.

Apparently, desks can be rather boring, for Canada found himself awakened by the sound of everyone shuffling out of the meeting room and heading toward the local bars. He blushed heavily, gathering his papers quickly and stumbling over a chair in haste to leave the now empty room. He pulled himself up and walked quickly out into the hall where he collided with something warm. Canada stepped back slowly, noticing that the warm wall that he collided with also happened to have white hair and red eyes. He decided to ignore the coincidence and leave as quickly as possible.

"Wait! Canada! Don't ignore me," Prussia jogged to catch up with the Canadian. "I was hoping I could talk to you-"

"Why did you come over to my house last night?" Canada asked, eyeing the floor.

"I needed someone to talk to…"

"Yeah, but why me, eh? You could've talked to France, or Spain, or any other nation. Why my house?"

"You just seemed… the most… I dunno…"

"Approachable?" He asked, crestfallen.

"No, not that. The most… nice… I guess."

Canada sighed and stopped, turning to face the Prussian. "Listen Prussia, you're a really awesomeguy, but I'm not going to be another one of your conquests."

"What? Canada!" Canada was walking away.

He turned over his shoulder and muttered quietly, "And please stop staring at me. It makes me nervous," and he strode away. Prussia just stared at the Canadian's back, confused and frustrated by the exchange. He didn't really _want _Canada, did he? The awesome Prussia does not stare!

Prussia tried to convince himself of this all the way to the bar, but by the second mug of beer, he still wasn't convinced. He pulled out his cell phone and called Spain, hoping that the chipper nation could take his mind off of things. The phone rang in his ear repeatedly until he was transferred over to voicemail. _Fuck voicemail! _Against better judgment, he called the final third of the best friend's trio after ordering another large mug of beer.

"Heeey, Francis! Come meet me at the bar!"

"Gilbert! Hon hon, how did you like the meeting today?"

"What? Dude! Not now! Drinking now, talking later. …or never."

"But I couldn't help but notice your interest in mon petit Matieu… Perhaps I could help you?"

"What? No! Just come drink with me, pervbag!"

"Fine, fine. The usual bar, I assume? I'll be there soon." Prussia hung up the phone and chugged his mug of beer, slamming it on the table before ordering another. About thirty minutes and two mugs later, France arrived, patting Gilbert on the back before sitting beside him.

"Heeeyy! France! You made it!"

"But of course! How could I leave you in need?" He smiled suggestively, but his innuendo was lost on the increasingly inebriated Prussian. He laughed and ordered a glass of wine from the bartender with a wink. The bartender just rolled his eyes and retrieved the French man's drink. As soon as the glass was before him, he started in on the albino next to him. Prussia's eyes were glazed and he was starting to lean precariously on his stool.

"So… How long have you liked Matieu?"

"Whattt? …uh.. I dun…dunn know. It's like, I totally would've fucked him that time I babysat him, but shit… that's different. He was a really fuckable twelve…," The Prussian slurred. He was easily eight beers down and starting to lose his edge, to say the least.

"Unnghh. I jus' want him, y'know? Not like, to just fuck him… he's just so… nice and awesome and stuff." France couldn't help but chuckle at the nonsense pouring from his friend's mouth. Prussia obviously cared for the Canadian, or he wouldn't be talking about his feelings to France, completely plastered. France decided that it was time to take action.

**Please comment! Comments are the only known cure for writer's block.**


	4. Chapter 4

After France decided that Prussia was sufficiently inebriated (i.e. unconscious) he set to work. France lifted Prussia up from his place at the bar and hoisted the man onto his shoulder. He paid both of their tabs and smiled at the bartender who allowed the men to leave with a sympathetic glance toward the albino knapsack. With heavy steps, the men were on their way. France carried Prussia out to his car and after opening the back door, laid the body of the other man inside. Prussia snored softly, undisturbed by his change in location, and Francis began laughing maniacally. This maniacal laughter did not cease until he reached his destination. Before reaching his destination, however, he stopped at a party supply store for some ribbon, and a drug store for some large Trojan condoms, rived for her pleasure… The cashiers were startled by the disturbing aura of the man, but rang him up quickly to get him out of their stores. (The woman who sold him the condoms was particularly concerned.) He got back into the car, and drove the familiar streets to a certain nation's house. He parked on the street and with a careful glance to either direction, pulled the Prussian out of his car and onto the porch. He hummed to himself as he went to work. Once he was finished, he rang the doorbell with a giggle and ran as quickly as he could to his car, his tires squealing as he made his escape.

Canada was sitting inside his house, relaxing on the couch to some horrible French soap operas and some coffee with two hearty squirts of maple syrup, when his doorbell rang. With a sigh, he set his coffee on the coffee table and walked to the door to meet his guest. He opened the door and began his usual monologue.

"Hi, I'm Canada. America lives down the street and to the left. The house number is 285, thanks for… For…" He was startled by the appearance of a certain unconscious man on his porch. Prussia had been stripped of everything but his boxers, skillfully bound with red ribbon, and had a small red bow on his head. Next to him sat a twenty-four pack of condoms.

"M-Maple…" Canada's face flushed and he felt a rush of heat to his groin. He looked around for the culprit and seeing no one, pulled his unconscious gift inside.

"Uhm… Prussia?" Canada timidly prodded the unconscious man with a finger. "P-Prussia?" After receiving no response, Canada decided he might need a drink himself before dealing with the situation. He walked toward his kitchen, repeatedly turning back to check that the man was still unconscious. There was no change in the other man's situation and with a sigh, the Canadian opened the fridge and grabbed a can of beer. He opened it and took a hearty swig before he walked back into his front entranceway, beer in hand to determine a solution to his problem. Prussia was… more than half naked, and unconscious in his home. That was startling enough for the meek Canadian, but Canada was startled further by how… attractive he found the other man and how aroused he felt, watching the other take deep relaxed breaths, unaware of his current bindings. Canada didn't _want _to untie Prussia. In fact, he wanted to do something completely different.

_No! Bad thoughts. _Canada could practically hear his shoulder angels screaming at each other. _This is bad. Bad, bad, bad! I need to get out of here before I… I…_

His thought process was rudely interrupted by a delightfully enticing set of lips before him. He watched the other's lips move slightly with his every breath, and couldn't help but lick his own lips. He wondered exactly how those lips would feel against his lips and other parts of his body. Before he knew it, he had approached the other and had placed and gentle hand on his cheek. He blushed, surprised by the movement, by didn't step back from his new position. He watched the other's face for movement and seeing none, decided to take a chance. He leaned in slowly and placed a gentle kiss on the other's lips. The kiss lingered and Canada became increasingly heated by the connection. He kissed at the lips with soft suctions until the other party mumbled something in his sleep. Canada stepped back, terrified and tripped over his other foot, falling on the floor with a loud thud.

"Nnngghh…" Prussia groaned before opening his eyes. "The fuck…?" Canada lay before him on the floor, eyes wide with horror and mouth flapping with words he couldn't quiet form. "Canada?" He moved to lean toward the Canadian but found that he was held in place. "Thheee fuccckk!" He wiggled in the binding, curiously at first, and then increasingly alarmed. He found that the ribbons were surprisingly well tied and did not budge. He looked down at them in frustration and the looked back toward the Canadian.

"Did you seriously…?"

"Wh-What!"

"I mean, it's not like I'm not in to this, 'cuz I totally am. I just never thought you were so… kinky," he said with an erotic smile toward the other.

"N-No! I swear I didn't! You were just on my porch, and I brought you in and then I… I…"

"I was on your porch?" Prussia thought back on his evening, praying to God that there was a rational, non-embarrassing explanation for why his was bound and unconscious on the Canadian's doorstep. He couldn't think of any and sighed, flipping his hair. He paused for a moment and studied the Canadian again.

"Waiiiit a second. Forget why I was here. What exactly did you after you brought me in?" Canada stared with wide eyes and then expressed his response in what could only be defined as an unmasculine squeak. The Canadian's blush was not lost on Prussia and he continued.

"Hmm? What was that?" Canada stared at the ground, ignoring the question and the existence of the other man as thoroughly as he could, praying that he was anywhere but here.

"Did you take a taste of my awesomeness, Mat? I can't blame you, I'm pretty fuckin' sweet. Did you try to touch me? Hmm? Did you touch my—"

"-I… I just…"

"MMMPH" Canada explained what had happened with a live demonstration, effectively shutting Prussia up.


End file.
